Desperate Measures
by laurajane14
Summary: What do you do when your husband comes home with a wad full of cash after having been threatened to have his bar, Fangtasia, closed? Why, you continue to help him rob people, of course. E/S. AU. Smut/silliness.


**I own nothing to do with True Blood. I am just a major Sookie and Eric fan. I wanted to try something a bit different, although I have no idea if anyone will be interested in it. I apologize in advance for any mistakes there are, I don't have a BETA or anything like that. :-)**

* * *

_**Desperate Measures**_

"I want to have a baby," Eric announced to me, completely straight-faced.

I almost choked on my Gin and Tonic. "Wait- what?"

"I want to have a baby, Sookie." Yes, obviously I had heard him right.

"You do realize that you need a woman for that, right? You actually need to impregnate a woman first, before you get the baby? It isn't possible for men to fall pregnant."

He sighed loudly and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers; His eyes betrayed the slight annoyance he felt at my inability to understand what the hell he was exactly implying here. "I understand perfectly well how the reproductive system works, Sookie. What I meant is that I want _you_ to have a baby."

My mouthful of Gin and Tonic definitely went down the wrong way this time around. I coughed loudly, and he had to lean over across his desk to pat me hard on the back, until I finally calmed. "What do you mean, you want me to have a baby? With whom?"

"Me," he stated, as though it should be obvious. "Me, of course. Your husband. I want you to have a baby. With me. Together."

"Um, all right," I laughed nervously, still getting over my coughing fit.

"What?" His eyes widened, and he looked profoundly humbled. "You would actually consider having a child with me?"

"Whoa, hold on a sec," I held up my hand desperately. "I never agreed to it. Slow down a bit here. I just..." For the first time in my life, I felt truly speechless. I mean, what do you say in response to something like that? To buy myself that extra needed time, I picked up my glass and guzzled it all down in one go. Then I sat back in my chair, and licked my lips slowly. "Eric, have you lost your mind? Are you even hearing yourself right now?"

"No, I haven't lost my mind, Sookie. I've actually thought this through very thoroughly. You turned twenty-six last month. In a couple of months, I turn thirty-four. I would love nothing more than to start spreading the good, old, Northman gene around." Eric's blue eyes stared into mine with nothing but complete sincerity, before he stood up from his desk and started pacing around the length of his office.

I sat in the red vinyl chair that faced his desk, which was spotless as always. I was absolutely irritated with the direction this conversation had taken us and my passive aggressive character got me thinking about pouring his martini all over his stacked-up paperwork or scratching and marking the polished mahogany wood with my nails. This idea he was proposing was utterly insane and the very last thing I expected to hear coming from his mouth. It was such a ridiculous and unbelievably asinine thing to be heard from a man, who was a borderline control-freak about all facets of his life.

I watched my husband as he paced around, going back and forth in circles like a puppy chasing its tail. Our marriage of nearly one year had been an act of convenience- on his part anyhow. As the founder and manager of Fangtasia, he needed a trophy wife to draw in the customers. One that came with him on business trips attached to his arm, during many interactions with important people, and one he could have in his bed every night. As a woman with not much money, who worked a modest job as a waitress, I needed a man who offered me stability and a demanding job to feel fulfilled with at the end of the day. What our arrangement did not include, was a baby in all that. We've never so much as even talked about that side of our relationship. Plus, I hardly saw how attractive it would be of me to waltz around attempting to draw in customers to the bar with a baby-belly underneath my saucy costume and a cheeky smile. Much to my dismay, I had managed to fall in love with this kooky man. He was a man of a few words and many of those words he did manage to speak were often emotionless and seemingly cold, but I knew fair well that he also had a softer side- one that he hid from the outside world. At work, he kept all stoic and professional but soon as that clock hit twelve, soon as we got home, he would always be the first one cuddling our cat, Tina, and throwing her fake toy mouse's around the house for her to go tootle off after. He was also the very same man who snuck chocolates underneath my pillow whenever I woke up. It showed up in the small thoughtful things he did for me. In the way he was supportive of his family members unconditionally and reliable, I knew he was a very good man.

But his one fatal flaw was that he hated children. I knew it, everybody else knew it. When my friend, Arlene, gave birth to her first little tyke, Coby, he barfed at the sight of her changing his diaper. Also, I knew for a fact when he sees the neighbour's children next-door, he likes to get out the hose and spray them whenever they try to peek through the fence into our yard (and I've received the complaints from their concerned parent's to prove it). He was a good man and wonderful husband despite that, bless him. But picturing Eric as a father, well, it was laughable at best.

Two years ago, while working the late shift at Merlotte's, Eric Northman had waltzed into the bar and simultaneously into my life, irrevocably changing it, starting with his martini; ice, lemon, and four olives, emphasize on the four. As he had placed his pretentious and difficult order, his staring at the little emblem on my work shirt unnerved me. I had gone as red as a lobster, because at first I had falsely assumed he was perving on my breasts. Turned out, he wasn't. He was just looking for my name-tag, which my boss Sam doesn't supply us with, heaven knows why not. When I handed him his drink, he sat up at the counter of the bar and I noticed he kept looking my way. I know when a man has interest in a woman; It doesn't take the brightest bulb out of the lot to work that one out. So, I had given him a big smile and he had smiled back shyly.

Then after that first time, he kept on coming in and returning for martini's.

The fifth time he did, he finally struck up conversation with me; Nothing all that major; certainly no life altering moment shared between two destined-to-be-lovers. He simply asked me how my night was going, the regular topics of conversation. Slowly, each night that followed, he grew the courage to ask me what my name was, and then if I was single or not. I was single, of course. I hadn't dated in years, aside from those occasional terrible dates you get that aren't anything monumental and just out of plain fun. Eventually he became what I like to call "a friendly regular" at Merlotte's. I neither liked nor disliked him. I thought he was majorly cute, yes, but that was it. I never gave it another second of thought.

Then two weeks in after this bizarre casual nightly interaction, the game changed. He came through the door at his usual time and sauntered right up to me with determination in his stride and confidence sparkling away in his eyes. I was about to tell him not to bother with making the order, as I was straight on it, I knew people from heart whenever they came in that often, but he completely threw me off track.

"I won't have a martini tonight, Sookie, but I will have you," he had said, like a radio announcer. He had seemed so composed when he said it, but the little tell-tale sign that told me he wasn't was how his fingers were drumming to an anxious pace on the counter in front of me.

"Pardon? Me? What?" I had stammered like an unintelligent loony.

I couldn't find anything witty to say; It was just completely unexpected of him. Truth be told, I felt a bit insecure around him. By the way he dressed, in his fancy immaculate suits and with his hair all shiny and smooth, I judged myself out of his league. It was a cheesy and odd pick-up line, yes, but it certainly wasn't what I would call the worst one I've ever had. I was truly flattered. Things went forward from there, and before I knew it, I was sleeping over at his house and we were fooling around on his bed, talking on top of silk sheets until 3 A.M about ourselves. I realized now that when you first start seeing someone, you see them in such a positive light; You're absolutely blind to whatever little faults they have. That night, he had seemed like the most interesting and promising man I had ever met. He just seemed perfect in every aspect.

And then the dust settled in a month later into starting our relationship...

I found out little quirks that weren't so damaging; Such as that he doesn't like it when I kiss his nose. He doesn't like it when I tap my front teeth against my spoon in the morning when he is trying to read the newspaper. He doesn't like it when I use my teeth to tear things out of wrappers. He doesn't like if I do this, and he doesn't like when I do that, blah, blah... the list really goes on. Those things weren't really too-much of a set-back. It was other things; Like how he insists on scraping me with his teeth in the bedroom, thinking it's such a turn-on. I don't mind it much, but sometimes it hurts when he gets a little too rough. Whenever we're out in public and I see parent's walking around with their babies in their prams, I get clucky. He doesn't. He thinks babies look like bald aliens. When children come around for trick-or-treat during Halloween, he makes terrible faces at the children while opening the front door to them and hauls candy at them, which ultimately scares the crap out of the children to the point where they want to cry.

He just despises children and is awful to them, he frightens them- which is partly the reason his suggestion scares the living hell out of me.

Then again, last month we went up to Arlene's for a barbeque and Coby was sitting on my lap and enthusiastically telling me what he wanted for his birthday. Eric had looked over at me with a strange look similar to longing and lust, and once we got home, he complimented me on it and actually said I would make a great mother one day. Then once we got inside of the bedroom, he tore off my clothes and pulled me down on the carpet. We made love that night, on the floor, all frantic and sweaty and just pure amazing sex. I wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol he had consumed doing it to him, or whether it was actually the sight of me interacting with little Coby. Could the time for starting a family actually begin right now?

So when he called me into his office tonight and told one of the regular girl's who worked, Pamela, to manage the bar for a while, I certainly never anticipated that he would ask for a child with me. I did have my suspicions that something odd was coming, because he had two drinks out on his desk for us. But I never actually dreamed he would be asking to have this with me. For us to start our own family, and have little critters running around wrecking havoc. Hell, I almost assumed he was going to fire my butt- his own wife!

I realized a long moment has passed, and I still haven't said anything in regards to anything. But he'd stopped pacing around for however long, I have no idea. He just watched me, waiting. Do I really have to answer it now? Tonight?

I was almost expecting him to crack up into laughter and qualify his out of the blue suggestion as a joke. 'Just kidding, Sookie. Ha-ha'.

"But you hate children," was all I could manage to say breathlessly.

"But I don't need to like them. Obviously, it would be different if the children were ours."

Did I want a baby with him? I think I was mostly afraid that if I did end up pregnant, he would neglect me and the baby, because of his adverse reaction to them. Was I ready for it myself?

"You really want a baby? You really want to start a family with me, despite how difficult and hard it'll be? How messy it will be with kids around? Children who smell and poo in their diapers? Would you be willing to change them even though you get vomity? Could you stand the long nights awake to babies crying and screaming for breast milk? Could you not throw things at them and make terrible faces that scare them? Would you-"

Not breaking eye-contact once, he strode over to where I was sitting and pressed his fingers against my lips. Yes, I was babbling, I admit. But I just had to get it out, so he knows what we might be dealing with here.

"I want this with you, Sookie," he whispered down at me, his eyes earnestly round. Shifting the chair around so that my knees were near his legs, he leaned down over the chair, watching me intently. Then reaching down he undid the waistband on his slacks and dropped down at my knees. He reached for his zipper and pulled it down. My mouth popped open in shock. In the office, right here and now? Goodness. "Kiss me, Sookie," he muttered, and he brought out his cock. Instantly, I knew what he meant by saying that, and I was all-too willing to oblige. "Stand up from the chair," he said in one of his bossy voices. I stood and without him having to push me further, I went down onto my knees, kneeling before him. "Kiss me," he breathed again hoarsely, and without further ado, I leaned forward and took him in my mouth. He sighed above me and I saw his eyes close tightly, as he arched his head back.

Leaning down, he put his hands on my head, stroking my long hair and running his fingers through it, while flexing his hips, and thrusting further into my mouth. I grabbed at his kneecaps for something to hold onto so I wouldn't lose my balance. I started to moan, knowing how he enjoys the sensation.

"Fuck, Sookie," he groaned, near breaking point.

And then there came a knock on the door to his office. Hastily, I brought him out of my mouth and he made a mournful noise at the sudden loss of contact.

"It's probably Pam," he whispered unevenly, doing up his trousers again. I got to my feet quickly, flattening down my hair, hoping to look decent. It was really too bad my husband was breathing and sweating like he had only just ran in a lengthy marathon.

"What, Pam?" he called impatiently to her through the plank of wood.

I swatted him on his chest over his mean tone, and he snickered and grabbed me by the chin, dipping down to claim my lips with his.

"Uh, Eric," Pam talked over us uncertainly, while his tongue invaded my mouth greedily, "Mr. Compton's here for his meeting with you."

"Shit, Compton," he rasped, jerking me away gently by the hips. He ran his fingers through his hair to make himself look presentable too, then said quietly, "Let him in."

He went back over to his chair and slapped a hand against his thigh, telling me to sit with him. Just as I reached him, the door burst open, and there stood a Mr. Compton in a mossy-green suit with flat, glossy black hair. He sat down, making himself comfortable in front of us, and smoothing down the back of his already greasy hair with the back of his palms. And then he cleared his throat gently; His eyes flickering to me. "Uh, Mr. Northman. Would you mind if we talked in privacy, preferably without a woman's company?"

Oh, well that was rude. "Excuse me, Mr. Compton, but I work with my husband. We own and run this bar together, so I believe I am entitled to be here while you say whatever you have to say," I said, in a deliberately sweet as pie voice.

"Well, suit yourself, Mrs. Northman," Bill said, backtracking with a polite voice and a strained smile equally as fake as mine was. Then, his expression straightened severely into business mode. "I regret to inform you, that the loan you took out for the bar hasn't been repaid in time, and you still haven't given us the sufficient funds for the repayment."

I looked over at Eric, startled. I didn't know he had taken out a loan.

"Oh, right." Eric frowned and tapped his forefinger against his chin. "Unfortunately, at this time with the recession, money hasn't been coming in a lot lately."

"Do you mean to tell me that you are unable to repay us fully for the loan you took out?"

"I just need a bit more time until I can. As I said, our profits are lower than it usually is. Last month, we-"

"- If you cannot afford to repay us, I suggest you file for bankruptcy and immediately close down your bar," Mr. Compton butted in unpleasantly. I scoffed out loud in outrage. I could tell Eric was about to lose his cool on him; It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, he is a hard man to handle.

"Listen, I never said I definitely wouldn't be able to pay it. I just need some time to get some funds together for the repayment. I can easily-"

"48 days, Mr. Northman, is only what we can allow for you to pay off your debts," Mr. Compton said, getting to his feet, judging that the conversation here was finalised.

"Isn't there some other way that we can sort this out?" I asked anxiously.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Northman," Mr. Compton said, smiling gently my way. "But there is nothing else I can do to be of service. 48 day's, and we expect to see those repayments, Mr. Northman. Have a good evening."

We sat there silently for a while after he had left, feeling smaller than we were. How could this be possible?

"I thought you said we weren't behind on anything," I muttered, confused. "So how could they do that?" Eric was leaning back in the chair, gritting his teeth with frustration. He sighed loudly, half a deep growl that reverberated through his body to mine, and then looked at me. He looked contrite. I knew what that look meant; It meant that he had lied to me. "Jesus Christ," I snapped, hopping off his lap. "We were just talking about starting a family of our own, and then this happens?"

"Relax. We'll pay it off in time. 48 day's is long enough."

"And what if it isn't? What then? What if we lose your life's ambition, and we're forced to close-up? What then, Eric? What are we supposed to do then?"

He growled through his teeth again. "Couldn't be of any service to us? Bullshit. He's lying. Fucking asshole!"

"I'll take up another job," I told him decisively. "I'll go see my old boss and see if I can pull some strings together into letting me do some shifts when I'm not here. And then, hopefully.. it'll all work out, and we'll be able to pay it off."

He gazed at me thoughtfully, then pulled open the top drawer on his desk. He pulled out a gun and set it on the hard wood, one I didn't even know he had. Why on earth would he have a gun? "I have a better idea. Let's dedicate our lives to crime and rob the rich."

I couldn't even tell whether he was joking or not, but for my sanity and reassurance, I pretended he was, and laughed weakly.

* * *

"Tina, baby. Come on," I cooed to her, scooping her up off the rug. I carried the cat around, stroking her fur, as I crossed the hallway to look outside the window. I peeked out the curtains, feeling my belly clench with worry. Eric told me to go home without him, and he locked up Fangtasia alone.

I don't have the slightest clue where my husband has gone off to, but wherever he is, I was hoping he wasn't doing anything dangerous or silly. Or getting drunk- which he tends to do occasionally when he was stressed. I brought Tina upstairs with me and placed her down on the bed, then headed into the bathroom to get changed into my nightgown.

I pushed out my belly in the mirror, pretending I was pregnant while I brushed my hair. I smiled to myself wistfully. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? But now another problem has sprung up onto us, without notice. What if we have to close-down Fangtasia? It would have truly killed Eric's self-esteem. I brushed my teeth, hit off the light, and trudged into the bedroom, leaving the night-lamp on until Eric got in so that he could see, and wouldn't take a stumble.

I had a terrible feeling he was out getting wasted. Maybe even draining every drop of alcohol we stocked in Fangtasia's refrigerator.

Surely enough, when he arrived home, he was so loud and gleeful about it that it woke me and startled Tina. I scrambled out of bed in time to see him dancing around like a lunatic.

"What on earth are you so happy about?" I asked, feeling grumpy.

"Come and see, my darling wife." He was acting really weird. Suppressing a sigh and not at all pleased with his antics at this time of the night, I stormed out towards him, and he finally stopped dancing and gyrating his hips around like a back-up dancer in a Ricky Martin video. He grinned at me broadly and hid something deliberately behind his back.

"What, Eric? What are you doing, you weirdo?"

"Look," he breathed excitedly, finally pulling that annoying something out from his back. It was a thick wad of bills. Holy ass.

"How did you get that?" I asked, shocked.

"It's a secret, wifey. A secret I am keeping all to myself."

"Eric, are you drunk or high or something?"

I pushed him into the bedroom, and hurled him face-front onto the bed. Tina jolted off in alarm and scooted away, hissing. I loved my husband, but really this was ridiculous.

"Seriously, how'd you get that money? Don't lie to me now!"

"Get on the mattress, baby," he ordered, and although I didn't have the slightest clue what he was playing at, I did anyway. I flopped down onto it heavily, and then stretched out my legs, thinking he meant sex. But then, with a flourish of his arms, he tossed the money into the air and it was swirling around me like a waterfall. I cracked up laughing, unable to help it.

"Tell me where you got it! Just tell me!"

He climbed up onto the bed and started jumping around, causing the mattress to squeak and rock loudly. And then the gun he had in his drawer at work fell out of his pocket and landed right on my face harshly.

_**Was that really bad? Crappy? I feel it was :(**_


End file.
